


A Poison So Bright

by xCastielsGirlx



Series: Inquisitor Elley [6]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dancing, Dragon Age: Inquisition - The Descent DLC, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Inquisitor Elley, Lyrium Withdrawal, Recovery, Sickfic, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29950116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xCastielsGirlx/pseuds/xCastielsGirlx
Summary: The trip into the Deep Roads came with unexpected consequences. It's lucky that Cassandra can help.
Relationships: Cassandra Pentaghast & Female Trevelyan, Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan
Series: Inquisitor Elley [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2077599
Kudos: 2





	A Poison So Bright

**Author's Note:**

> Screw the lore on raw lyrium effects. This is my city now.

**i**

The Deep Roads, Elley knew, were awful. There was nothing worse than being stuck underground for weeks on end, with no view of the sun. It was like solitary all over again. Elley shuddered. At least she had her companions with her and the team that had joined her below.

The Bastion of the Pure, Elley discovered, was worse. The lyrium song thrummed through her head, and it took everything she had to push it away. Many times she had snapped at Varric or Cassandra, having lost her nerve. The only one who seemed to be doing worse than her was Dorian. He winced at every loud noise and his usually rich and tan skin had faded to an ashy pallor.

It was a miracle that they even managed to defeat the Titan.

When Valta blasted her with an unknown force, Elley had had it. She was shivering, nauseated, and just wanted to see the sun again. Not to mention some of the rock had become embedded into her shoulder during the blast. Her kindness was limited as she fought against Valta; her whole perspective seemed to have shifted since the battle. Elley scoffed at Valta's request to state her fate was unknown. The knowledge that they had discovered shouldn't be buried due to overconfidence.

The journey out of the Deep Roads was hurried, the party barely speaking with one another. Once they breached the surface, Dorian cried out in pain. Under the glow of the midday sun, they looked far worse than in the caverns. Dorian's eyes were bloodshot, and his cheeks were sallow. Varric was sweating and swaying on the spot. Elley felt something warm and sticky on her top lip. She wiped it away, thinking it was going to be sweat. It was blood. The only one who seemed in good health amongst them was Cassandra, and even she had developed a tremor.

Dorian collapsed first, halfway back to their ride to Skyhold. Elley stumbled from her horse and over to his unconscious figure to provide first aid. She didn't make it far before she, too, passed out. The last thing she heard was Cassandra's terrified yell as Varric crashed to the ground.

**ii.**

The party's return to Skyhold caused widespread panic. The arrival of Cassandra, weakened, and supporting two horses with the unconscious bodies of her comrades on was enough to stir even the most faithful of the masses.

Thankfully, the healer was ready for them. Cassandra had sent a hasty note ahead to Leliana and what to expect. The healer and surgeon approached the horse with Dorian and Varric, whilst Cassandra eased Elley down from her own horse. Cassandra was momentarily thankful that Elley had decided to build an infirmary instead of a sparring ground within Skyhold's walls.

No sooner than Dorian, Varric, and Elley had been made comfortable in cots, the burst open. In flooded Josephine, Leliana, and Cullen.

Cullen froze at the door, his eyes going wide. He turned on his heel and bolted from the infirmary. Leliana raised an eyebrow and followed him.

“What happened?” Josephine asked, her hands over her mouth in shock. Cassandra let out a sharp and pained breath.

“They collapsed on the ride back. All three of them. I'd have put it down to exhaustion, but the symptoms... they are not natural of it.” Cassandra muttered. She eased herself down onto one of the free cots as the infirmary staff bustled around her. A trainee healer started taking her vitals, her hands glowing as they hovered above her body. Cassandra stripped herself of her armour, letting it clank onto the floor.

“Do you think it could be contagious? Something they caught in the Bastion, perhaps?” Josephine prodded. Cassandra closed her eyes, a headache pounding at her temples.

“My lady,” the healer started quietly “There seems to be an abnormal amount of lyrium in your system,” she mumbled. Cassandra looked to the healer with wide eyes, and then to her unconscious companions.

“Of course,” she sighed. She stood on shaky legs and made her way over to the other beds. She didn't know how she'd missed it in the first place. The three were obviously in midst of a lyrium overdose. Dorian, being a mage, would have been the most affected by all of the lyrium in the Bastion, and even though Varric was a dwarf, he'd probably been on the surface for so long any resistance would now be non-existent. As for her... she was just lucky that her abilities as a seeker kept her conscious. Now that she had time to assess her body properly, she could feel the tremors, the raised fever from her abilities burning out the lyrium. She could feel nausea threatening to overcome her as a way to expel the toxin.

“Keep them stable, healers. In a few hours I should be ready to assist,” Cassandra stated, leaning heavily against a beam. The healer nodded, but the surgeon narrowed her eyes.

“You're telling me how to do my job now?” she asked scornfully. Cassandra glared, thankful that at least it still held its power.

“What I'm telling you is that I'm the only person in this room that can guarantee a survival rate of one hundred percent.” she snapped. The surgeon shrank back and began working with the healers, albeit grudgingly.

**iii.**

“Care to tell me why you ran, Commander?” Leliana's voice echoed in Cullen's tower. Cullen himself was sat at his desk, shaky hands gripping his hair.

“The smell... they _reeked_ of it.”

Leliana made her way over to the desk, appearing from the shadows. She took in Cullen's appearance- the sweat, the wide, panicked eyes, and the shaking.

“Lyrium.” It was a statement, not a question; Cullen nodded in affirmation.

“It is good then, no, that Cassandra is with them.” Leliana smiled gently at Cullen and stood.

“If you need to talk, my door is always open. As is, I'm sure, Cassandra's.”

**iv.**

News spread fast in Skyhold.

Within a few hours of their arrival, the story of the lyrium poisoning had circled the fortress twice. Every member of the Inquisitor's inner circle had turned up to the infirmary at one point or another, seeking entry to visit their companions. It was only after Cassandra snapped at them all to give the four of them space that they stopped the endless barrage of questions.

Cassandra had never had to use her gifts so much as she did in the next few days. After initially recovering, she set to work on small sections of Dorian's body. The task required delicacy and concentration for the mage, as affected as he was. Cassandra made sure that the most vital areas were clear before stopping. She was sweating and dizzy. The gifts of the Seekers were incredible but were also hard work on her body.

It would more than likely take days until they were all even ready to walk again.

After the first day of treatment, Varric was awake and sitting up. Cassandra was irked by the sight of Varric being ill. He had always been so boisterous and an ever-present voice, that it was unnerving to treat him and watch him recover. Varric would keep a watchful eye on Cassandra as she used her abilities on Dorian and Elley, a confused furrow between his eyes. Though the majority of the Lyrium was gone from Varric's system, he was being subjected to bed rest until it had been completely expelled. Cassandra had done her part but was always vigilant at making sure the levels were staying down.

As a mage, Dorian was expected to have some lyrium in his system, so Cassandra was careful not to burn out too much. The only downside was that due to being a mage, he was more susceptible to raw lyrium, and this meant his treatment was more complicated. Varric sat upright in bed after a morning of physiotherapy, scratching away with his quill. Cassandra was both curious and irritated. Curious because she wanted to know what he was writing, but irritated at the scratching. It was during one particularly vicious strike-out that Cassandra made an irritated sound at the back of her throat.

“I understand bed-rest is boring, Varric, but I'm doing delicate work here!” she snapped. The scratching of the quill was silenced, and the shuffling of papers was heard. Then there was blessed silence.

“Thank you,” she muttered as she went back to work. Her brow furrowed as she tried to untwist and burn a considerably difficult thread of lyrium that had woven itself into the blood vessels around Dorian's lungs. After a solid few minutes of concentration, she felt the tendrils of raw lyrium burn away, leaving a base layer expected for someone of his power.

As she did this, Dorian coughed violently and spun onto his side. Cassandra let out a noise of disgust and jumped away at the brightly speckled bile and phlegm that had spilled onto the floor. Varric had gone slightly green in the face, and Cassandra sighed in relief as Dorian's posture relaxed for the first time since he had collapsed.

By sundown, Dorian was awake and trying to talk his way out of bed-rest. He was silenced by a glare from Cassandra, and a shake of the head from Varric. Dorian huffed and sat back on his bed. Occasionally he would lean over to Varric to see what he was writing and mutter suggestions.

Cassandra was at a loss when it came to the Inquisitor. Lyrium's effects on dwarves and mages were well documented, but the information on humans was next to nothing. The only reference she had to draw from were Templars, and their secrets were guarded very tightly by the chantry and the Order. She knew what happened in the later stages of life; the withdrawal, dementia, the fatality rates. But to know what raw lyrium would do to a human that was previously not exposed? She worried her bottom lip as she burned away the tendrils from the vital areas. It didn't help that the coils kept finding the heart. And the entry mark from the shrapnel after Valta's attack was still thrumming with energy.

Varric and Dorian watched Cassandra worry, and a nod between them lead to Dorian breaking the silence.

“Perhaps you should call in the Commander, seeker,” Dorian suggested. Cassandra stilled from where she knelt next to a still unconscious Inquisitor.

“And why, pray tell, would you suggest _that_?” she asked.

“He'd know about the effects of lyrium on someone who's never taken it before more than anyone,” Varric chimed in.

Cassandra made a noise of disgust.

“I would not burden our Commander like that,” she insisted, turning back to work. After about ten minutes, Cassandra huffed and stopped working.

“This is all I can do for tonight,” she muttered, rubbing her face. It spoke to her levels of exhaustion that she sat at the end of Varric's cot and slumped over, her forearms on her thighs.

“I'm not used to deploying my gift with such intricacy,” she admitted. Varric looked closer at her in the torchlight. He saw complete and utter exhaustion. Her downturned lips pulled at the scars on her cheeks, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Varric knew it was pointless asking her to take a day off; Cassandra was the only one who could assist if the Inquisitor took a turn for the worse.

“The mark may even be making things more difficult,” Dorian theorised aloud.

“Maybe we could bring Chuckles in for a look?” Varric suggested gently. He saw a glimmer of hope in Cassandra's eyes as she stood.

“I'll get him at once.”

**v.**

Solas examined the unconscious figure on the bed with such scrutiny that it made all three companions feel uncomfortable. He prodded and poked at the glowing hand, which was actually looking more subdued than usual. After a solid forty minutes of silence and muttering, Solas stood up straight.

“The power from the mark and the raw lyrium are clashing. Working with the hand directly would prove beneficial. I would also recommend calling in the surgeon once again to ensure that any shrapnel from Valta's attack has been completely removed.” Cassandra let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Solas stood by the bed almost awkwardly.

“Thank you, Solas. Your help is invaluable,” Cassandra replied. Solas nodded, and made to move towards the entrance. Cassandra's voice interrupted him.

“If you are willing, I'd be happy to receive more of it in the coming days.” Solas looked back at Cassandra, and to the surprised faces of Varric and Dorian. A light smile touched his lips.

“I am here for as long as you need me, Seeker.”

**vi.**

Once she started concentrating on working with the Mark to dispel the lyrium, Cassandra felt the task go a lot smoother. The surgeon had been called back for another examination of the entry wounds on Elley's shoulder and managed to extract the smallest piece of glowing shrapnel that had been buried beneath her collarbone. The surgeon looked sheepish and made herself scarce at Cassandra's thunderous look.

By the end of the fifth day, Varric and Dorian were discharged. Dorian had never been so relieved to see the tavern, and Varric went straight to the archery range with Bianca – the crossbow, not the dwarf. They were under orders to check in with Cassandra each day for the next week to monitor the levels to ensure they were recovering.

Though Elley's levels were receding, she still wasn't regaining full consciousness. Sometimes she seemed peacefully asleep, and others she would be tossing and turning. At night, Cassandra would find the woman on her side, curled around her hand.

By the end of the sixth day, Cassandra started to recognise it for what it was: lyrium withdrawal.

It made sense by all accounts. The lyrium levels were down, there were no more infected pieces of shrapnel, and her Mark was supporting the purge from her body. When midnight rolled around, Elley had regained consciousness.

The first thing she asked for was a glass of water.

Cassandra held the water skein to Elley's mouth and ensured she didn't gulp it down too fast. She needn't have worried however as Elley took leveled and small sips. Cassandra felt confident handing her the water skein to administer the water herself.

“Is everyone okay?” she croaked. Cassandra nodded.

“Varric and Dorian were discharged yesterday. I think they were celebrating in the tavern up until this morning,” she commented, a smile tugging at her lips.

“What about you?” she asked, taking another sip. Her voice was becoming stronger with each sip of water.

“I recovered after only a few hours. I have been helping aid the healers over the past few days,” Cassandra advised. Elley looked at her sharply, taking in her features.

“You'll be glad for a rest then. Sorry to be a pain,” Elley mumbled. Cassandra snorted and stood.

“My work here is not done yet. I must ensure that the three of you are stable over the next week. You in particular are in for a rough few days,” she informed. Cassandra folded her arms across her chest.

“You sustained an injury from Valta's blast, and your Mark clashed with the lyrium. You're going to have more adverse Lyrium withdrawal symptoms than Varric or Dorian did,” she stated. Elley nodded and swallowed, hard.

“I will not pretend to be an expert on what you will experience. For that, I've asked the commander to come and explain. I'll let him know you've awoken in the morning.” Cassandra made her way to her cot in the infirmary and glanced back. It was strange how being in a hospital bed could make a woman so powerful look so small.

**vii.**

True to her word, once Elley had awoken and been checked over by Cassandra, she sent for Cullen. Varric and Dorian had also stopped by for their check-up, and Elley was shocked to see Cassandra smiling gently at the two. When the banter became too much, Cassandra rolled her eyes and pushed them out of the door. As they exited, Cullen entered. He stood nervously and looked around the room. Cassandra could tell the look in his eyes and squeezed his arm reassuringly.

“I believe in you Commander. You have come so far already, and your help will be invaluable to her,” she muttered. Cullen took a deep breath and walked toward Elley. She looked up from her book when he sat on the end of her cot. A small smile graced her face.

“Commander. How are you doing?” she asked, her voice still scratchy. Cullen looked at the woman in her bed, eyeing the shaking of her hands as she closed her book and folded them on her lap.

“Better than yourself, apparently.” he tried for a joke, but it fell flat. He could see the panic in Elley's eyes that she was trying so hard to push down.

“I'm not going to lie; the next few days will be excruciating. Your periods of lucidness will vary, you may forget whole patches of a day. Usually, the nights are the worst, so make sure you have a sufficient distraction. The shaking and nausea can mostly be managed with salves and tonics.” Cullen explained gently. Elley tensed with each word but nodded along.

“I'll get Dorian to bring more books,” she muttered quietly. Cullen nodded and shifted on the cot.

“Thank you, Cullen. I appreciate you being here for me. I know it must be difficult.”

Cullen nodded and stood.

“I can bring you some books if you'd like. Maybe a game of chess later as well?” It was a tentative question, and Elley nodded slightly.

“That would be fantastic.”

As the night rolled around, Elley found herself restless and irritated. She had been trying to read, but her vision was swimming, and she was shivering. Cassandra was reading quietly in the cot opposite hers, and she didn't even flinch as Elley threw the book onto the floor.

“Dorian won't be happy about how you're treating those,” she remarked simply, turning a page. Elley huffed and turned to her.

“Can I get more blankets?” she asked. Cassandra shook her head.

“You will overheat yourself. Try another distraction.” Elley pouted and turned to the various hobbies that surrounded her. None of them were taking her interest, so she settled down into her bed and tried to sleep.

She phased in and out of consciousness over the next few hours, each time the candles were getting lower, and Cassandra got further into her book. After a while, Elley was groaning in displeasure. Cassandra was by her side instantly.

“What are you feeling?” she asked.

“Sick. Headache.” Elley gasped out. Cassandra nodded and went over to the table of salves. She gave a bright yellow one to Elley and smoothed a light pink lotion across her forehead. Elley sighed at the relief they brought and slipped off instantly into a restless sleep.

She awoke as dawn light filtered through the windows, her sheets soaked with sweat. Cassandra was sleeping in her cot and was lightly snoring. Elley attempted to stand out of bed but crumpled to the floor almost instantly. She quietly cursed, frustrated that she wasn't allowed to start physiotherapy yet whilst her other companions were up and about. Her throat tightened as the thoughts swarmed her mind of being useless, of holding the Inquisition back. These thoughts pushed at her mind and forced her to stand on shaky legs. The pain from deteriorated muscle was almost unbearable, and she let out a pained yelp.

Cassandra awoke in an instant.

She made her way over to Elley and assisted her onto the nearest cot. Her frown was disapproving.

“There was a lot of sweat. I wanted a wash,” Elley muttered, embarrassed as Cassandra stripped the sheets.

“Next time wake me up. I can at least help you until the healers arrive to assist with your personal care,” she stated factually. It only took about five more minutes for the healers to check on Elley. They supported her to wash and dress, and then Cassandra assisted her back to bed.

“I know you are eager to return, Elley, but you must give yourself time to mend.” Cassandra felt for any stray lyrium in Elley's system before standing.

“You seem to be all clear, at least. It will be just the effects of withdrawal to compete with now. I will at least try to get the physiotherapist with you today,” she mumbled. Elley nodded again, her anxiety rising as she realised that it meant the solid companion she'd had would be leaving her. Cassandra must have caught on. Elley noticed with some amusement that she looked like she had all those months ago, like a halla caught in the torchlight.

“There will be visitors allowed. All at your discretion, of course. And I am asking Commander Cullen to visit to keep an eye on your withdrawal progress. I will also be checking in on you each day, of course,” she mumbled. Elley nodded and grabbed Cassandra's hand.

“Thank you for everything, Cassandra. I really appreciate it,” she mumbled. A small blush covered Cassandra's cheeks, and she stood to exit the room. She bid goodbye and opened the door to Cullen, who was stood with his fist raised, ready to knock. Under his arm, he had a small travel chess set.

Elley's smile was small but sincere.

**viii.**

Cullen struggled over the next few days. Cassandra's council was invaluable for the first few days where he was looking over Elley. It brought painful memories to the surface, but he found her company to be relaxing, and he could ease any worries with her. It also helped, he found, that Cassandra was always able to tell how Elley's lyrium levels were doing over time.

On the first day, Cullen's heart ached for the woman. He had brought the chessboard with him, but after midday, it became obvious how futile it was. Elley would go quiet for stretches of time, and when she started talking again, it was to continue a conversation they had already finished an hour ago.

The lapses in memory scared Elley the most, and it became evident that the chess games were not helping. She would find herself working out one move, only to come around looking at a completely different board.

Reading was crossed off almost entirely after she would be unable to recall previous chapters and plot points. She wanted to play the lute, but the notes would trail off, leaving her fingers still on the strings.

Eventually, she settled on drawing. It would still be disorienting to see the progress jump occasionally, but at least it was something that she didn't have to retain too much information for.

She was infuriated when the shaking made most of the drawings nothing but doodles.

Like Cullen had said, the nights were the worse. It was during the late hours with little to no distraction that Elley would dwell on the cravings. They abated over time, but when her anxiety was high and her mood was low, the cravings came out in full force.

On the third day, Elley was depressed, anxious, and lonely. She had thankfully been allowed some physiotherapy, but she was still weak in the knees.

That night, she was unable to focus on much at all. Cullen was in the chair across from her, cleaning his armour, and her hand was shaking across a piece of parchment she was using to sketch him. The clatter of her pencil on the floor swept her out of her reverie, and she blinked at the low light.

“Another memory lapse,” she muttered. Cullen looked up from where he was now practising chess against himself. He made a note in a medical diary for Cassandra and the healers. It had been some time since the last memory lapse, and it had Cullen worrying his lip. Elley glanced at how it tugged at the scar.

She found herself in a conversation which she trailed off from.

“Again,” she stated, and Cullen almost looked relieved. He was blushing furiously at whatever they had been talking about. Elley shrugged it off and sat in her bed, staring at the wall. Tears stung at her eyes in frustration.

“How did you even manage this?” she whispered. Cullen shrugged. His answer was cut off by another memory lapse. After that, Elley let the tears fall freely.

**ix.**

By day six, the memory lapses had stopped completely. Her nausea was being managed by poultices, and her shakes were subsiding. Her physiotherapy continued. After a week of being conscious, Elley was discharged from the infirmary. She was under strict orders to not lead any heavy-armed missions for the next few weeks, but overall she was ecstatic to be let out.

The darkness that had been creeping at the edge of her features was being washed away as she socialised with her inner circle and spoke with her advisors at the war table. Overall, she was looking very bright and cheerful.

Elley would occasionally wobble at the war table, but shook off any helping hands.

Her signature was becoming more of a chicken scratch when she was tired, so she would use Cullen's handwriting instead, which resembled the chicken scratch more than hers did.

There would be times when she would lose focus on what she was doing, but it was for only seconds at a time, and she could recall what she was doing during those seconds.

To celebrate, her inner circle took her drinking in the tavern. The songs were raunchy, courtesy of The Chargers, and the ale was flowing. Even Solas had been convinced to join in on the party, though he was sitting quietly with Cole. As the evening drew on, Elley became more and more inebriated, and somehow the topic had come to dancing. Vivienne had pestered Elley about her performance at Halamshiral, and how she had lead Florianne so well, and Sera had scoffed saying that regimented dancing was for “prissy-panted nobles”. Drunk on ale and good spirits, Elley slammed her tankard down.

“I'll show you how much of a prissy noble I am!” she slurred, climbing up onto the table. Vivienne gasped in shock, whereas Dorian, Iron Bull, and Sera all hollered and hooted.

“Maryden! Play something jaunty!” Elley yelled. The bard raised an eyebrow before shrugging and plucking a quick and upbeat tune.

Elley danced freely for the first time since Kirkwall.

As the song came to an end, she stumbled. Her eyes widened and her stomach dropped as she fell. Luckily she was caught by a strong pair of arms.

“Oh Bull, my hero!” she swooned dramatically. Iron Bull coughed, amused.

“Not me, Boss!” he chuckled. Elley looked up into the eyes of Cullen, and her face went a deep shade of crimson.

“Time for bed I think. Last orders were called about five minutes ago,” Cullen advised. Elley straightened herself up and brushed down her clothes as her companions all booed behind her.

“Can I escort you?” Cullen asked, an eyebrow raised amusedly as Elley had yet to take a hand from one of his arms. Surprisingly, she nodded.

The two of them stepped out into the cool air, and Elley shivered. She sobered slightly, and with that came the aches and pains of dancing whilst still recovering. Elley steeled her resolve as she and Cullen climbed the keep's stairs together, but she stumbled when they reached the last few. Cullen threw his other arm around in front of her as she stumbled and held her steady.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently. Elley nodded and Cullen supported her on the last few stairs. It then dawned on her that she'd have to face it again with the stairs up to her quarters. She stood, embarrassed, by the door. Cullen was about to let go, but Elley gripped his arm tighter.

“There... there are a lot of stairs. Could you...” Elley trailed off. Cullen looked to her and the flush across her cheeks.

“I'm always happy to help,” he replied. Cullen opened the door, and slowly the two ascended the stairs. By the time they reached the top, Elley was exhausted. Her legs were trembling, and it took every ounce of her energy to stay standing. Cullen guided her over to the large bed and eased her into a sitting position.

“I definitely got a bit carried away there,” she mumbled as the tiredness set in. Cullen hummed nonchalantly, making his way over to the dresser and grabbing some pyjamas for the Inquisitor.

“That's only the second time I've seen you dance,” he commented, handing her the pyjamas. He turned around to give her privacy, but remained within earshot in-case she wanted some support.

“It was the complete opposite to Halamshiral,” he continued. He chanced a look over his shoulder and saw that Elley was completely changed into pyjamas now. She had a wistful look on her face.

“I really wanted to dance with you then,” she mumbled whilst smiling to herself. Cullen blushed.

“Yes, well there wasn't really much time after the assassination,” he muttered clumsily. The smile dropped into a grimace, and Cullen instantly regretted his words.

“Thank you for your help this evening, Cullen. I'll try not to overdo it like that again,” Elley stated. It was impressive, he thought, that she could shut her emotions off so completely. It was also insulting that she thought she could get away with it when he'd spent the last week of lyrium withdrawal supporting her. In his hurt, he shut himself off also.

“You're most welcome. Goodnight, Inquisitor.”

Elley opened her mouth to say something else, but by then Cullen was already gone.


End file.
